Next Time
by irishflute
Summary: Smythofsky Week 2013 Day 1 - Getting Together. Dave isn't sure how to react when he sees a familiar name on his class roster at NYU.


**A/N: Submission for Smythofsky Week Day 1 – Getting Together.**

**Warnings: Brief mentions of suicide attempt (past)**

Sighing, Dave re-read the email from his soon-to-be philosophy professor. He'd signed up for the class thinking it would be an easy way to knock out the last of his general education requirements, but Professor Robertson had already sent the class an email detailing the readings he expected everyone to have completed in preparation for day one. Worse, it looked like the class would be small and discussion oriented, meaning he probably wouldn't be able to get away with skipping out on the readings.

Dave took a deep breath. Overall, he was still excited to begin his second year at NYU. His first year had gone exceptionally well – his roommate was so awesome they'd decided to live together again this year, and he even made the Dean's list. Plus, New York City was _much_ more liberal than Lima, Ohio. Here, Dave felt like he could relax and be himself.

Well, maybe not relax. He had about fifty pages of reading to do before his philosophy class started up on Monday. Dave grimaced and turned back to the email as if he hoped it had magically changed since he last looked at it. Unfortunately, the same dry, summer-killing words stared back at him. Damn.

On the bright side, the professor hadn't formatted the email to hide the names and email addresses of his classmates, so he could begin facebook stalking and looking for potential study buddies. Clicking the "to" line, Dave began to scan through the names, checking to see if anyone stood out.

The first name on the list – Jennifer Allbrook – was one he recognized. He'd had a biology class with her last semester, and they'd been paired together for a couple of assignments. She was a good student, and they had gotten along, so he was happy to see her on the list. Maybe she'd be able to help bail him out if he got behind on the reading.

Most of the names were completely unfamiliar. Many were probably freshmen, just getting started on their gen eds. They were more likely to need help than to give it. _Still_, he thought hopefully,_ a lot of freshmen are overeager – maybe they'll participate enough to take the heat off of me._

Near the bottom of the list, however, a name made him do a double-take: _Sebastian Smythe._

Dave stared at the name, mouth agape. _It couldn't be … But then, what are the odds of there being another Sebastian Smythe?_ he thought. He bit his lip, unsure how to react to the familiar name. The last time he'd actually seen or spoken to Sebastian had been at Scandal's, before his suicide attempt, and the other boy hadn't exactly been friendly.

Still, though, he'd heard from Kurt about how Sebastian – and the rest of the Warblers – had dedicated their Regionals performance to him, and how he'd seemingly turned over a new leaf. And, even when he was being a self-centered asshole, there had always been _something_ about him …

Dave shook his head. This was pointless. Sebastian might drop the class before the first day. He might not remember Dave at all. Hell, it might not even be the same guy. It wouldn't do any good to sit here staring at a single name in an email.

But it _could_ do some good to try some facebook stalking. While it wouldn't necessarily tell him much, there was a good chance he'd at least be able to figure out whether or not Sebastian was at NYU.

Dave clicked over to the other tab and typed the name into the search bar. There he was – the first result, with two mutual friends. He didn't even have to go to his profile – it listed his networks right there: Dalton Academy and NYU, where – according to facebook – he was studying political science and vocal performance. He considered delving deeper into his profile, but he stopped himself. _I've seen everything I need to know,_ he thought firmly. _The rest can wait until I see him in class in a few days._

To push the temptation a little further out of sight, Dave logged out and closed the tab. Glancing back at the email now filling his screen again, Dave logged out of that, too. _I don't have time for this,_ he chided himself. _I've got some reading to do._

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The following Monday, Dave nervously entered his philosophy classroom a full fifteen minutes before class was scheduled to begin. He looked around the room anxiously, but – unsurprisingly – he was the first one there. Selecting a seat near the back in the row closest to the door, he settled in and began his watch on the door.

Jennifer Allbrook was the next person to walk through. She spotted him almost immediately and walked over towards him with a wave. "Hey, Dave! Mind if I sit in front of you?"

"Hey Jenn! Go right ahead," he told her with a smile.

She quickly put her bag down and sat, pivoting in her chair to face Dave. "I was so happy to see you on the class roster – it helps _so_ much to know you'll have a friendly face in class with you!" she gushed. "What did you think of the readings for today? I'd seen some of them before, of course, but there were a few I hadn't – Professor Robertson made some interesting choices! I bet we'll have a fantastic discussion!"

"Yeah, totally," Dave agreed vaguely. He hadn't made it past the first page of the first article, and he couldn't recall a single reading on the list looking remotely familiar, but he wasn't about to admit that to Jenn. She'd be more likely to help him out down the road if she continued to think he was at least a semi-competent classmate.

Jenn continued to prattle on about the readings or her summer or something like that – Dave had quit listening, instead focusing on his door-watch. Students began to trickle in – some in pairs, some by themselves – but none looked remotely like Sebastian. Dave kept minimally participating in his conversation with Jenn until an older man in a suit – the professor – ambled into the room and began organizing his papers for class. At that point, Jenn turned around in her seat and waited expectantly for the lecture to begin.

A minute later, Professor Robertson cleared his throat, made his formal introductions, and began to hand out paper copies of the syllabus. Reluctantly, Dave looked away from the door. He did a quick survey of the people in the room – _I didn't miss him coming in, did I?_ – but nothing. Maybe he'd dropped the class. Or maybe there _was_ another Sebastian Smythe at NYU. Suppressing a sigh, Dave grudgingly opened his notebook and prepared for a dull hour of class.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor, I got caught up in a philosophical debate on my way in the building," said a smooth, charismatic voice from the door. Dave's head jerked up. _Sebastian._

There was no mistaking him – the former Warbler looked slightly more mature, and his hair was styled differently, but his overwhelming presence and attitude was totally and uniquely Sebastian. A glow of confidence and authority exuded from him as he gave the professor his best smile and slid into a desk in the front row.

Professor Robertson gave Sebastian a stern look. He raised an eyebrow at the tardy student. "Since you are so clearly interested in the subject matter at hand, I trust you can tell me what you thought of the Machiavelli reading?"

Dave winced in sympathy. It looked as though their professor wouldn't be swayed by Sebastian's charm. _Tough luck._

"I concur with his prioritization of the safety and security of the state and the advantages of one absolute power who maintains control through force, but I'm inclined to agree with Rousseau - _The Prince_ is not an endorsement of cruel, oppressive, and coercive leadership, but rather an account of how the state truly operated based on his experiences first with the Republic and later with the Medici family," Sebastian answered, leaning forward and fully engaging in the discussion."

_Whoa,_ thought Dave, impressed._ Looks like he prepared for class, after all._

Professor Robertson's eyes widened in surprise. "Very good, Mr. … ?"

"Sebastian Smythe, sir," he said. "Pleasure to be in your class – I've heard only good things!"

"If it is such a pleasure to be here, one would think you would have made a bit more effort to get here on time."

"So sorry, Professor – you have my word, it won't happen again," Sebastian assured him with the perfect level of chagrin.

"Yes, well, see that it doesn't," the professor chided halfheartedly. "Now, class, does anyone else wish to comment on the philosophical musings of Machiaveli?" Jenn immediately raised her hand, as did a few other students, and the discussion quickly expanded.

While the rest of the class moved its focus off of Sebastian and into fifteenth and sixteenth century philosophers, Dave kept his attention on the lanky brunette in the front row. Sebastian had always been unfairly attractive – if a bit of an asshole – but somehow, it seemed, he had gotten even _more_ gorgeous in the year and a half since Dave had last seen him.

_Come on, Dave. The last time he talked to you, he was a complete jerk. You should be shooting daggers into the back of his head, not staring at him like he's the best thing you've ever seen._

Shifting in his seat, Dave glanced at the clock. _Crap._ Class was more than half over. He didn't have long to figure out what to say to Sebastian. Or if he should say anything at all – maybe he could avoid him altogether.

Dave ran through potential conversations in his head. Should he acknowledge their last encounter right away, or would it be better to just walk up to him like an old acquaintance with a vague and typical "Hey, how's it going?" It seemed a bit abrasive to open with something like, "Hey, assbutt, I've heard you turned over a new leaf. Do you still think my eyebrows make me look like Liberace?" But, on the other hand, it didn't feel right to ignore all of that and offer a warmer greeting. Still –

The professor clapped his hands, snapping Dave out of his thoughts. "Okay, class, that will be all for today. Remember to keep up with your readings. Participation is a large portion of your final grade, and you cannot participate if you show up unprepared." Was it Dave's imagination, or was Professor Robertson looking straight at him? "Class dismissed!"

Dave swallowed heavily, eyes darting around the room and refusing to focus on Sebastian, who was packing up his bag. He still didn't have a plan – and his opportunity to act was quickly slipping away. Belatedly, he realized Jenn was talking to him. "Sorry, what?"

"I've got another class right after this, across campus, so I've got to run," she repeated, slightly impatiently, "but we should totally grab lunch one day this week, okay? Just send me a message!" she called, already on her way out the door.

"Okay," Dave said absently. She was well out of earshot, but Dave's attention had already shifted back to Sebastian. The other boy had turned around and was scanning his classmates as they left the room. He seemed to be looking for someone and, not finding him, was becoming increasingly disgruntled. Finally, he made eye contact with Dave. For a second, he just stared, agape. A slow smile gradually eclipsed his face, and he started walking towards Dave, who stood frozen by his desk.

Frantically searching for something witty – _or at least not immensely stupid_ – to say, Dave desperately wished for more time. Unfortunately, Sebastian continued to walk steadily towards him, maintaining eye contact and looking as poised and sexy _– no, not sexy, don't think sexy – _as ever.

_Oh no._ Dave was out of time – Sebastian was right in front of him And he still had no idea what to say. Luckily, Sebastian spoke first.

"Hey, Bear Cub. It's … It's been a while, hasn't it?" Sebastian spoke softly, and his composure seemed slightly shaken. There was an element of tenderness in his words that Dave hadn't heard before.

Dave swallowed heavily. "Sebastian," he breathed. "Yeah … yeah, it has been. A lot's changed since then."

"Yeah. Lots of changes." The two continued to stare at each other. Each seemed to be waiting for some kind of reaction from the other, but both were holding fast to expressions of neutrality.

"So …" said Dave, trying to break the silence. "Do you … do you think we should talk?"

Sebastian drew in a quick breath, but he nodded. "Yeah. Do you want to – are you free now?"

"Mhmm," said Dave. "This was my last class today; I don't have anywhere else to be." _Shit._ Had he made himself sound too available?

"Good – neither do I. Let's go somewhere a little more private." Dave's eyes widened. Sebastian sighed. "Not, like, serial-killer private. Just, like, a coffee shop or something."

Dave relaxed slightly, embarrassed. "Oh. Okay, yeah. That would be nice."

"All right, let's go." Sebastian paused. "Want to pick somewhere? I've only been here a week; I'm still kind of learning my way around."

The admission seemed to have made Sebastian uncomfortable, but it put Dave more at ease. He was back in control. "There's a really good place right around the corner – the coffee's great, and they make awesome muffins," he offered.

"Lead the way, Bear Cub," said Sebastian with a smile.

Neither of them spoke as they walked out of the building and over to the coffee shop. The place was almost empty. Their orders were quickly ready; picking them up, the two found a small table in the back corner.

Sebastian took a sip of his coffee. He considered for a moment. "Hmm, not bad," he said with a shrug. "Good recommendation, Karofsky. I'll probably come here again."

"You should get a muffin next time," Dave suggested. He mentally kicked himself. He didn't think he could sound more ridiculous if he tried.

Sebastian laughed, but not in a cruel way. "Maybe I will."

The silence crept in again. Both boys appeared on the brink of speaking, but neither one quite got to the point of opening his mouth. At last, Dave opted for small talk. "What did you think of the class?"

Sebastian blinked in surprise, but he went with it. "Not really sure," he said with a shrug. "I quit paying attention as soon as someone else started talking."

Dave laughed. "But you seemed so into it at the beginning! You did all the readings and everything!"

Sebastian snorted. "No I didn't. I just skimmed a few Wikipedia articles and looked over one of my papers from high school this morning before I got here." Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows. "You didn't happen to take notes, did you?"

Dave let out a laugh. "Not a word. I was … kind of distracted," he drifted off awkwardly.

Sebastian noticed, but he graciously ignored it. "Ah, no matter. I'll get them from somebody." He smirked. "Someone's _bound_ to have been impressed enough by my opening monologue to think I'll make a decent study buddy."

"I'm probably going to get the notes from Jenn, the girl who was sitting in front of me,' Dave offered. "You could probably go over them with us if you want."

"Thanks – I might just take you up on that," said Sebastian with an easy grin. He glanced down at the table, swishing his coffee cup. "You know, I was kind of distracted during class today, too."

"You were?" asked Dave, refusing to be hopeful. "By … by what?" _By me?_

Sebastian sighed. "Seriously, Dave?" He looked up. Dave stared back at him. "You really have to ask?"

Dave nodded. "I just don't want to … make assumptions." _Get hurt._

A flash of pain crossed Sebastian's face, but it had vanished before Dave was sure it was even there. "Fair enough." He took a deep breath. "Dave, I … I don't think I've ever properly apologized. For … for what I said to you at Scandals that night."

"You don't have to –"

"Yes, I do," Sebastian interrupted. "I was awful to you. You deserve _so_ much better than that," he continued, reaching out to put his hand over Dave's, "and I am so incredibly sorry."

Dave felt his heart rate accelerating. _He's holding my hand. Sebastian Smythe is apologizing and holding my hand in a New York coffee shop._ "It's okay," he said earnestly. "I mean, it wasn't – it was really horrible of you – but it's okay now. I'm better, now. And I heard about your Regionals performance and everything – it means a lot. I really appreciate it."

Sebastian smiled. "Great! I was hoping you knew about it. Did you get to see it?" His face fell slightly. "Not live, I know – you were still in the hospital. But … have you at least seen a video?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah – Kurt showed me." He grinned. "You guys were brilliant. You totally should have won." He blushed. "Don't tell anyone from McKinley I said that."

The corners of Sebastian's mouth twitched upwards. "Wouldn't dream of it, Bear Cub." He pausedt. Dave stayed quiet, waiting. "So … Are you free this weekend? Say, Friday night?"

_Don't jump to conclusions,_ Dave thought quickly, trying to keep his heart from leaping into his throat. "Um, maybe … Why? Do you want to meet up to go over notes? I can see if Jenn's free …"

Sebastian smirked. "I don't care if Jenn's free."

"But she's the one who's actually taking notes – we kind of need her to –"

"I don't want to go over notes, Bear Cub," Sebastian cut in. "I was thinking it'd be more fun to go out to dinner."

"Oh," Dave breathed, eyes wide. "You mean … like a date?"

"Not _like_ a date. An _actual_ date," Sebastian explained patiently.

Dave squelched his excitement. "I thought I wasn't your type," he reminded him, pulling his hand away.

Sebastian deflated. "Okay." He looked up at Dave dejectedly. "You know I didn't mean any of that stuff, don't you?"

"Then why did you say it?" asked Dave stubbornly.

"I was scared," Sebastian said frankly. "You … you scare me, Dave."

"Why?"

"You're different. I'm used to being completely in control – no emotions, no strings. But with you …" He shrugged. "With you, I can see myself starting to care. back then, at Scandals …" He shook his head. "I just wasn't ready."

"And you are now?"

Sebastian pressed his lips together. "I think so. I want to be." He exhaled slowly. "Look, Dave, I haven't stopped thinking about you since I heard you tried to …" He swallowed thickly. "So when I saw your name in that email last week …" He let out a puff of laughter. "I had to try."

"Okay," said Dave, smiling.

"Okay … what?" asked Sebastian cautiously.

"What time will you pick me up?"

Sebastian grinned. "Does seven work for you?"

"Sounds good!" Dave agreed. He was floating. "I'll see you then!"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "You know, we have class together two more times before Friday night," he pointed out. "So you'll probably see me there first."

Dave blushed. "Yeah – see you then, too."

"I'll sit by you next time – that way, we can not pay attention together," Sebastian smirked.

Laughing, Dave nodded in agreement. "Works for me!" He smiled. "I should probably go – I've got two classes worth of reading to not do," he said, making a face.

"All right, Bear Cub. Until next time, then," said Sebastian, standing up.

"Until next time," Dave agreed. He and Sebastian walked out of the coffee shop. Each turned to walk his own direction, but Dave stopped. "Hey, Seb?" he called.

"Yeah?" Sebastian answered, turning.

"It's really good to see you."

Sebastian smiled, completely content. "Yeah. It is." He tentatively took a step back towards Dave, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "See you around, Bear Cub," he said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before letting go and walking away, hands in his pockets.

Dave watched him go, wearing an expression of total bliss. _See you around, Sebastian._ He suddenly found himself very much looking forward to his next philosophy class.


End file.
